


No Winter Lasts forever

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Marriage of Convenience, Past Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Post-War, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: Recently widowed, Bill Weasley marries Hermione Granger at the behest of the Ministry and in order to comply with its new Marriage Law. He moves to Alaska and discovers a shocking secret that his new wife has been hiding for so long. Surely fate was worse than death, but his father had said, "we are the Weasleys, we do the right thing because it is the right thing to do." Previously called Marriage of Convenience
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Bill Weasley
Comments: 91
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I only own AU and OCs, the rest are JKR's babies. Please consider this as a fiction, I don't sympathize with any of the ways men or women stoop low to dishonor any living being. It is my first take, on Bill Weasley and Hermione Granger. This Chapter is beta'd by SeverusSnapesSecretLover

****

**No Winter Lasts Forever**

“You weren’t exactly my idea of a spouse.” Hermione Weasley mumbled from the other side of the table, they were currently sitting in. Her new husband sat across sipping his firewhiskey lazily. His face hard and his eyes piercing. He was cold, yet watchful, catching every little movement she made while trying hard not to bolt out of the small Magical resort, somewhere up the cold mountains of Alaska.

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. But here we are, shackled together just like they want.” Bill Weasley spoke pausing after every word trying to read the witch in front of him. He was certain there was something off about her. Fleur was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. Not a week after he had buried his wife and his unborn child, did the ministry of magic bring out the Magical Marriage Law, arguing this was the best way to repopulate the dwindling society. Ronald and Fred were admitted to spell damage wards. Dolohov’s spells had caught both the brothers unaware. Healers didn’t have much hope to offer to the grieving family. 

_Arthur Weasley had pulled his son aside when the match was decided by the commissioned panel of ministry appointed healers and advocates. “Bill, I know it’s not easy, but look at the girl. She has nowhere to go. Parents dead. She needs it, she needs a family, which we can provide, you can provide her. Son, I am not asking you to stop mourning for Fleur but just grab this opportunity and look at the bigger picture. If the ministry has allowed magic to decide it then can you afford to deny this match?”_

_He glanced back at his new wife, who was sitting in between Harry Potter and his sister, biting her lips, and growing paler with every passing minute. Lucky for them, they were matched. Potter would be living with the family until he had finished his Auror Training and secured a job. Ginny would go back to Hogwarts to finish off her studies. That made him asked his father,” Don’t you think it’s odd, Granger has not accepted McGonagall’s offer to return to Hogwarts and complete her study?”_

_“That girl’s been through so much, Bill. It’s justified if she wants to stay away and opt for distant studies. She hasn’t said anything about her stint at the Malfoy Manor.”_

_“Griphook offered me a job at the new division opened in Alaska. It’s a small settlement of wizards and goblins. It’s a magical mining town. I will be heading the logistics. My employer suggested it is a golden chance for me,” Bill heaved and stared at his feet. Arthur patted his back in understanding. “Well! I think it will be just right, don’t worry about us, we will bounce back, trust me. I will make Molly understand. Bill, I know it is not going to happen overnight. But Hermione is a sweet girl. I understand you have seen her as a sister. But…”_

_Clenching his jaw, his son glanced at him, then replied,” I will have to start with pushing Fleur to the back of my mind, Don’t expect me to uproot her memories…”_

_Grabbing both of his shoulders, Arthur implored,” I am not asking you forget. But Fleur is not coming back. She is dead. And that quivering girl, sitting in between your sister and brother in law, is alive, frightened and lost.”_

_He twisted his face, making his scars more grotesque, and hissed,” Dad, I am not going to pity her and fuck her because some ministry buffoon thinks we are compatible!” No sooner had the words left his lips, his face snapped to one side. Arthur had slapped him and pushed him against the wall._

_“Listen to me, young man, don’t you dare disrespect your wife. You will abide by the law of our society, and you will show her compassion. There is a reason you both are selected. Let time decide whether both of you will find it within yourselves to love each other.” Hugging his boy, who had started whimpering, breaking down in the empty corridor, the father whispered fondly,” I’m sorry son, I am so so sorry. I never thought I would have to ask this of you, Bill. But we are Weasleys, we do the right thing because it is the right thing to do.”_

The couple had apparated from the borders of the Burrow that very night, travelling across an ocean and a huge continent with an international portkey, rapidly sanctioned by the ministry at the request of the Gringotts bank. The bank had arranged for a room in the resort as a wedding gift of sorts. Griphook had further extended his hospitality by offering his trusted logistic manager a cottage. The couple would be shifting to their new home after the weekend was over. 

It then struck him. Hermione was hardly touching her steak, but she had been nibbling at her salad throughout the dinner. And her glass of firewhiskey was full and untouched. He leaned forward and whispered, trying not to sound offended,” How far?” The girl had stopped nibbling at a potato wedge. Her eyes crinkled at the edges and then they flew open in pure horror. Her secret was discovered. She closed her eyes, bowed her head down in shame perhaps, slowly lowered the fork on her plate. Steepling her fingers over the table. Hermione looked back at her husband, she stuttered slightly,” Six weeks. The ministry healer was the first person to tell me, that I…” He made a sound at the back of his throat and threw a new question at her,” Who is the father?”

Her face twisted, but glancing at the other patrons, she tried not to break down. Fiddling with the edge of the navy blue napkin, Hermione, wandlessly mumbled a Muffliatio spell. Bill didn’t object as the magic washed over him. The sound of plates and cutleries and instrumental music died down and he could clearly hear the sound of their breathing now. She confessed in a level tone, but her eyes spoke volumes of her pain,” Bellatrix imperioed Ron after discovering he fancied me. And she made him...while the others watched. Rodolphus obliviated him. He doesn’t remember anything...if you want proof, you can see for yourself.”

He saw that she was barely hanging in there and got up grabbing her hand. His gesture did startle her, but he drew her in his arms and whispered,” Cancel the spell and keep walking naturally.” She panicked,” Why? What? What are you going to do?”

Smiling down at her, though his smile hardly reached his amber eyes, Bill Weasley whispered,” We have a marriage to consummate Mrs. Weasley.”

* * *

A/N: If you want this to turn into a multichapter fic in the future, tell me so, I will have to think afresh.


	2. Chapter 2

Closing the door shut, Bill left Hermione next to it and started pulling at the clasps of his robe. Whatever they were about to do now, didn’t require the robe or any of these clothing. He surveyed the room. The bed with its white linen and warm quilts mocked him. Right next to it were two chairs facing each other with a round table between them. Pointing his wand at the table he levitated it away next to the console table pushed over the wall. Removing his dragon hide boots, he stood on the other side of the chair and faced his panicking young wife.

Nudging his head a little, he demanded,” Explain.”

It was almost like he had flipped a switch somewhere inside her brain and she just couldn’t control those erratic words which started to tumble almost instantly, “ I had no time to learn about pregnancy though I did carry several tomes and leaflets about it. Of course, that was the most logical thing to do, I was going to share a camp with two teenage boys,” pausing a bit,” And I did have a crush on Ron. I had even learned the contraceptive spell…We didn't know how long we would be gone. It could have been days, weeks, months, years!”

Looking back at her new husband, she wondered if he was purposefully making her take all the blame for the situation. She tasted acid in her mouth as she forcefully argued,” But how on earth was I going to prepare myself for getting raped by my own friend?”

All this while she was holding onto the door frame for support, but now she walked into the room a bit and continued, her face flushed, her tears running freely,” Moreover the little did I manage to read about the symptoms, I didn't experience anything too weird. I missed my monthly, but with so much running about, stress, and the constant fear of dying, I can’t really expect my body to function normally…”

Bill watched her come closer, her voice growing hoarse, and she was struggling to keep it together. “The same things can happen with a person who has too little to eat, who is running for her life. While all this was going, how was I going to think, daydream, and lust over the idea of having sex for the first time?: 

She blinked and bit her lips and whispered ashamed to have to confess it,” I felt intrigued and nauseated about the whole thing about various positions and increasing mutual pleasure…”

Lurching forward, she gripped the back of the other empty chair and glowered, “Then the battle, those dead bodies, those nightmares... I couldn’t even say goodbye to my parents. One fine morning, Shacklebolt came to Grimmauld place and informed, my parents were dead, killed by vengeful death eaters still on the loose. He had told me, it is better that I do not see their bodies,” Whimpered and hiccupping profusely she stammered, “He said, “you wouldn’t wish to remember them like that.”

Bill knew most of it, at least all that Harry was able to narrate. But hearing it from the trembling girl clutching the back of the chair with her dear life, was almost like reliving the whole thing once again. But he didn’t have the luxury to crack, did he?

In the same odd tone, he asked,” So far you have been honest with me, but I would want you to be absolutely transparent. Since you were tortured by Bellatrix for a longer period of time, can you show me that scar she carved on your arm once again? If there are others that you didn’t feel like mentioning to anybody before...”

Hermione hesitantly pulled up her sleeves and showed him the ‘mudblood’ mark. Then she arched her neck and showed him the knife mark over her neck.

She blushed and looked away for some moments. Then mumbled quietly, rubbing her cheek,” There is one more,” gulping down, added,” But you will see it eventually when we have to…” her eyes darted at the empty bed and she stopped for a moment. After a little pause, she clarified, “It is not Bellatrix's handiwork. It is old.”

“And when did you get that?”

“During the battle of ministry, one of Dolohov’s dark spells. Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore had healed it. Though they told me, I would have to live with the scar for the rest of my life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed and he muttered,” If Professor Snape and Dumbledore had worked on it, then I wouldn’t waste time over it.”

He motioned her to sit down. Once she settled opposite to him, he pulled his chair forward and extended his hand, asked politely,” May I have a look at the Scar on your arm?”

Hermione watched his face as he studied the “Mudblood scar” with interest. Next, he brought over his wand and muttered a couple of spells over the letters and furrowed his brow further. Tracing the edge of the last letter “D”, he observed,” She did it the muggle way, but with a cursed blade. Does it hurt even now?” 

When the three had apparated at the Shell Cottage after escaping from Malfoy Manor, Hermione had only allowed Fleur to come close. This was the first time she was showing this to Bill. she shook her head. Instead of letting go of her hand, he continued holding it in his large palm. 

After thinking about it at length, Bill decided not to beat around the bush anymore and share his basic observations with Hermione. At least if he could have the girl on board, he could find a way to deal with all this. 

Weighing the words, he stated,” As I said before, we need to be honest with each other. Since Bellatrix is involved, and Ron’s and Fred’s life is in danger, I have to know every detail no matter how painful they happen to be. I am a well-trained curse breaker, and I also have the advantage of working with Goblins, whose methods are way older than the Wizards.”

Hermione gulped down,” I will help you anyway, if Ron and Fred’s lives are in danger and if Ron’s hurting because what happened... I have read and heard of Legilimency. But I never saw someone perform it real.”

As she told him about Harry’s experience with Professor Snape, also about how the man was able to freely let go of his memories so that Harry could learn about salient things and win the battle, Bill felt marginally relieved. She was at least not panicking about this whole thing anymore. 

He waited for her to go quiet again and said,” I will do a bit of both. I hope you are aware that in order to successfully cast the spell I will have to hold you. Goblins do it by touching the sides of one’s temple.”

He leaned forward as she shuffled in her chair and gripped the edges of the seat. Touching the sides of her temple he stared deep into her eyes and warned,” Don't flinch and show me everything...like you said, you are going to do this for Ron.”

She felt his hardened fingers rest against her skin. She felt his knees rest against her knees, and for a split second, she stared down at his lap. She blushed and looked away taking short breaths. He said she would have to live through it, and then, they would have to sleep together. Things were no longer in her control. He will touch her, he will have to, he would definitely not like to do it. It was a matter of convenience. 

Gasping for breath she jerked her head, but he held it in place and leaned forward until she felt his breath on her face. 

For the first in the whole day, his voice grew human, real, and warm. His cold eyes softened and he pleaded,” Show me so that I can figure it out. I can help you with everything that has to happen afterward,” despite himself he ran his index finger over her cheek and allowed her to take comfort from his touch. “Hermione, you have to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”

Looking back at him, she thought she saw Ron’s honest and loving eyes until her eyes caught hold of Bill’s deep furrowed scars, high cheekbones, and his thin lips. Cautiously she brought her hands forward and left them hovering in front of his chest. He noticed it and nodded,” If you wish, you can put them on my shoulders.”

When her small hands trembled against his shoulder, he started drawing small circles over her skin to make her relax. Her fingers flexed for a couple of seconds and then she gripped him and muttered,” I am ready.”

Hermione gasped slightly when those fingers caged her face and his eyes burnt with magic. Bill Weasley gave her little time to think. He had already whispered,” Legilemens”.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This chapter mentions torture. For those who consider it as a trigger can give it a pass.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The night had truly set in. The polar lights were shimmering across the sky. Though Muggles could only see them around the winter months, the Goblins had found a way to make them permanent. It was splendid. The myriad of colours it managed to cast over the snow-capped mountains would make the twins’ fireworks shy off. 

But the newly married couple was not interested in any of these spectacles Nature chose to display in abundance. Hermione’s face had gone as pale as Death and Bill couldn’t stop staring at her. He knew for certain if he made the mistake of blinking the witch would lose it. He didn’t know for how long he was there inside her mind. But the torture seemed endless!

Bill Weasley was aware of the word rape and the many things that came associated with it. But this was the first time, he had walked through the process of the whole grim affair. Goblin’s way of performing the Legilemens could transport him into the body of the person it was performed on literally. It was so powerful that he could even feel, think, and hear everything along with the subject of the spell.

He knew he needed help to decipher several of the things he had seen, but how was he going to talk about it in the first place? Granger was not raped by a bunch of strangers, yet she most certainly was. Ron did not rape her, yet that person hovering over her writhing body was him. Only his eyes were not looking like himself. They were drained of their usual happiness and mirth. Ron’s eyes were horror-stricken. Her terrified voice within his head still continued echo,’ You can’t handle this alone, get help, ask for help, as soon as you can.’

The girl had been raped off her innocence. They had trampled on her childhood memories involving his brother. They had sullied their friendship, mocked at her secret crush on him. And it was evident to him, Ron in his own way loved Granger. The irony was not lost to him that he had married his brother’s love. He could still hear the crackling laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange and felt his blood run cold. He could still feel Ron moving in her body and he could still hear her weeping voice, reminding herself,” This is not Ron. this is not Ron.” He could taste her blood in his mouth, he could feel the waves of orgasms rush in...and Ron’s grunts declaring he was too close and for a moment his brother looked equally helpless as the witch below him.

Hermione’s cheek was warm under his sweating palm, the girl’s eyes were glassy. Her knees trembled against him and she tried to hide her aroused state by brushing her legs against each other. Unable to do anything she shivered miserably and looked back at him, pleading him to help her mutely.

Transfixed, the man could only continue watching her in return. He had never seen Hermione Granger in action. No, maybe he had, but he never paid the witch much attention, until she was asking questions clutching a book close to her chest. The woman trembling in between his hands was brave beyond measure. The fact that she could remember all of it was grotesquely remarkable. He could feel every atom of his being aching with pain and shame. Yet here she was sitting in front of him still holding on to her sanity. He gulped and asked the first question that came to his mind,” Why doesn’t Ron remember any of it?”

“Rodolphus LeStrange obligated him.” She offered no other explanation, but her eyes were now darting all over his face. She whimpered,” Please do something, make it go. I...can’t, not anymore. I cannot live another day remembering Ron doing this to me. It is so horrible. I couldn’t tell anyone, I didn’t know how to...something was holding me back. And I am sure it was nothing to do with Ron or our friendship. It was vile and sinister. I couldn’t ask for help, because it would trouble Harry the most. I…”

When Bill continued to stare at her, she sniffed, thinking at least he was not pushing her away,” But today’s news altered things. The spinster feeling is gone, there is an emptiness in its place which I don’t understand. I have not been feeling well for the past week. While the world rejoiced, I would sneak away, escaping into the washrooms and wrecking, battling nausea. Of course, I couldn’t fool Harry. He found me coming out of the bathroom and cornered me. I just told him it was the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. No one knows how to help with that one.”

Gripping her head firmly Bill shook her and urged,” Granger?”

“Help me, please.”

“I intend to and what I am going to suggest will be a blessing in disguise.”

“What can possibly be a blessing, when my life is ruined,” the woman wailed.

“I am going to borrow those memories. If I know you any better Granger, you don’t like to be kept in the dark about things. So why don’t you just think about the whole thing and bunch the memory up in a crisp small paragraph and hide it away from me? Once that’s done, I will extract all the horrid details and..” Bill choked over his words.

“And?”

“And I will deal with it.”

Bill Weasley said it with such conviction that she thought she could finally rely on him. If not for love, she could lean on him for support. At this moment she needed it the most. She started sobbing then and there, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Fetching his wand, Bill pointed it at her temple and asked,” Please allow me to remove all that you don’t wish to remember.” 

She had seen this happen once. But she never got the chance to read about it. Perhaps it was her will to relinquish the hold of those terrible memories that pushed them on the surface of her temple and she watched the man twist those shining tendrils around the tip of his long wand gracefully. He dropped them into a vial and placed the stopper. 

He tried to get up but Granger won’t let him leave her yet. Heaving a deep sigh, Bill levitated the vial and dropped it over his cloak. The witch was hysterical and he couldn’t blame her for it. Neither could he soothe her worries nor could he comfort her with false promises. It was true her life had changed and he couldn’t blame her. 

Cupping her face, making her look at him once again, he muttered sadly,” Hermione there is only one way to forget the rest of it. And while we seal this bond together, I want you to remember one thing, I am not Ronald Weasley. I am William Weasley,” he grimaced and added,” if this helps you accepting things, just keep reminding yourself,” we are doing this for Ron.” 

Staring down at her mid-section he gulped and said,” And also for his unborn child.” Those words didn’t sit well with him. He battled within himself pitching reason again compassion. _‘I married her because it was the right thing to do. I don’t love her, neither do I wish to love her. I can provide her with shelter and support. I can help her through this difficult pregnancy and try getting help to fix Ron. Then once things are back to normal...I will leave it to Ron and Hermione to decide. This is what I do normally. Protect my family. This is what big brothers do.’_ It was perhaps his conscience which threw the nasty truth back at him,’ _and I will sleep with their lovers while they lay in a comatose state at St.Mungo’s’._

Tilting her head to one side, he leaned into her space and started nuzzling against her neck, kissing his way up till she started feeling lightheaded. He flicked his hand and deftly vanished their clothes. It meant that he was going to show his horrid scars to her, something he had vowed only to show his late wife. But it was worth it. Granger needed to see him for who he was. She needed this to remember he was not Ron.

Hermione was not only seeing him for the first time, but she was also feeling him under her fingertips as well. His scars were both old and new. The deepest ones were made by Greyback and the rest were souvenirs of his risky missions commissioned by the goblins. She felt his muscles flex. He was lean yet she could sense his magical prowess throbbing under his skin. Something told her she should be wary of it and yet she felt a rare sense of comfort as he wrapped his arms around her pulled her even closer. He didn’t spend his time studying her bare flesh, for that she was thankful to him.

Bill Weasley’s fluid transition from a private man into a calculative lover, who was sure about what he must do or had to do to make her stop rationalizing the situation had overwhelmed her with the sense of relief and gratitude. She decided to simply follow his lead. The man had the decency to make sure she could at least gather an ounce of pleasure out of it. This was not a lovemaking parse, but Hermione realized her new husband was doing this for her mostly. Though he never mentioned it to her, but his fingers set her alight. His lips made her desire roar. For a fraction of a moment, she dared to pretend it to be her first time with a man she loved. That brought a long moan out of her. The signature sound of mingled lust and desire echoes through the room over the mutual panting. All her bookish knowledge about ways of lovemaking turned to naught when Bill Weasley continued to keep her aroused until she relinquished everything to him and kissed him. She didn’t dare kiss him of the lips. Their marriage ceremony at the ministry had made her aware he hated it the most. His cold eyes had glared at her when he had bent down to brush his rough lips against her trembling ones. 

Once he was certain she was prepared enough, he picked her up, making sure her legs were open wide so that they could dangle around his hip. To keep her occupied he continued to nip her throat, trying to remind himself this was not the wife he wanted to bed with. This was not Fleur who would giggle and grab his at his hair each time he did that to her. 

Hermione was writhing around his fingers chanting under her breath,” More, please, don’t stop,” when without giving her any time, He settled her down on his lap, impaling her halfway. She had gasped at the contact and then had started keening. But to make the witch understand that this was not a replay of her trauma, he whispered against her ear,” I am not Ron, I am Bill and I am your husband. We are married as per Ministry orders. Hermione, I won’t harm you neither will I harm this baby growing inside.” She felt his wet fingers travel up and touch her stomach and then gasped, as he demanded,” Look at me.”

Her eyes flew open in panic when she found herself sitting on his lap snugly. He was all the way inside her dripping core, hard, and acutely warm. She had looked back at him stunned by his efforts. And he stared right into her honey-dipped wide baffled eyes warning her not to think or look anywhere else.

He kept moving in a slow rhythm, guiding her and at times rubbing her back to keep her alert and anchored to this reality which they bought were participating in unison. She felt ashamed for both of them. While she had started enjoying his ministration, her new husband was closed, distant, cold, and emotionless. 

In the back of his mind the eldest brother of the Weasley siblings continued to remind himself, ‘this was the need of the hour, it had nothing to do with marriage, nor did it have anything to do with me.’ Yet he had marveled at the way Granger had transformed from this collected and sorted-out witch to a wildling. The comparison was too stark to ignore. Fleur was a veela, whose blood roared with passion. But Hermione was a muggle-born witch. But her responses were exactly the way he wanted them to be. Her insides fluttered with such raw intensity, that at times he thought she was indeed the one meant for him. He couldn’t help it, because he was tempted to see her fall apart in his arms. He had brought her close twice before he allowed himself the luxury to come undone. Gritting his teeth, determined not to show her, how horribly the whole thing was affecting him, He hugged her tight and hiding his scrunched-up face in her voluminous hair. He sobbed without making any noise. She felt her inner muscles tighten around him and shuddered in his damp embrace. 

Both of them felt their magic twine together and vibrate for a couple of minutes. Their bond and fate both were sealed. Rubbing his face over her wet and sweaty hair, he tried hard to collect his wits and stood up. Still carrying the witch wrapped around his torso and waist, he stumbled to the bed and laid down on his back. The witch was sobbing as well. He thought about comforting her but felt it was not his place to do so. He leans backward, till his head touches the soft pillow, still cradling Hermione’s trembling body in his arms. The moment he grew soft, he turned, letting her slide off on the bed. 

Baffled by his cold attitude, she moved further away and made efforts to get up as well as cover herself. Bill stared hard at her and just said,” Stay put.” Stretching his arms, he grabbed the vials filled with her memories and wrapped his robes around himself. Hermione watched him get up and walk up to his suitcase. Opening it he brought out two vials. In crisp orders, he instructed her to drink them up. His voice sounded cold and clinical like he had said this million times before,” it will burn down there, but try not to move. The ache will ease off faster if you stay still.”

He made an effort to walk away when she blurted out, “How did you know, I mean, how were you certain that the baby wouldn’t get hurt.” She folded her arms over her stomach protectively. Bill glanced down at her arms and looked back at her eyes. Slowly he replied,” Fluer was two months pregnant.” He watched her inhale sharply. She bit her lips and made an attempt to offer a soft condolence,” I am sorry for you…”Shrugging his shoulders dispassionately, he repeated,” Don’t move, let it heal.”

He thought she was going to thank him for everything but he felt the guilt of being such a helpless man so intensely that he turned right away. Closing his eyes shut, he took deep breaths and said a bit louder, “ I need to take a bath. Once I am done, you can use the bathroom.” With that, he walked straight into the attached bathroom and closed the door shut.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

**Chapter 4**

The polar lights had invaded their room completely by this time. She watched them dance along the white-washed log ceiling and wrapped herself in the heavy blankets. Hermione Granger did not dream about surviving the war, but then she didn’t imagine herself getting pregnant with her best friend’s baby, and getting married to his elder brother either. She was a realist and not a dreamer. She wanted to complete her education, sit through her NEWTS and get a job that would be intellectually challenging. She didn’t want to be pitied by others and hide away in a perennially snow clad depressing place. 

Everything about Ron was warm and filled with joy, even if she wished he wasn’t so temperamental. The twins she thought were far too intelligent and Ginny boisterous and quick. She had watched Percy over the years and always thought he was trying too hard to prove himself. But both Bill and Charlie had complex personalities. 

Sniffing into the blanket, she strained her ears. The room was too quiet for comfort and not a single sound came from the bathroom. 

“He must be hating me and everything else. I know he loves Fleur, he will always love her. Even if Molly was against that match...” she whispered,” I too would have used silencing spells, if I was forced into…” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help by pity herself. 

The more she thought about her new husband, Hermione realized, the eldest Weasley was nothing short of an iceberg. In fact she started discovering new facets in every Weasley family member. Molly Weasley was affectionate to a fault. Arthur Weasley stood in the shadows but his boys mostly followed his lead. Both Charlie and Bill were more close to their father whereas Percy hid behind books wishing to be taken seriously. The twins might ditch formal education yet they were able to run a business successfully. Nothing could hold back Ginny from teaching bullies and Ron- the only thing he lacked was self confidence. 

Rubbing her nose more vigorously, the woman looked over her shoulder and watched the closed bathroom door, wondering whether to get up and knock at it. Blinking away her tears she shivered. Bill shared many of Ron’s features, but his eyes could freeze anyone. His magic was more turbulent. She could compare him with a dormant volcano. Bringing her legs close to her chest, the witch bit her lips and murmured,” His family has no idea what he is capable of.” She closed her eyes and delved inside. She could still sense the throbbing residue of his magical signature which happened to coil itself around her calmer resources. It frightened her yet gave her a sense of protective feeling. 

“Personal tragedies could turn a man cold and distant,” she looked at his cloak placed over one of the chairs and mumbled. While she was reduced to a whimpering mess, Bill had remained stoic as they watched her memories together. Somehow she knew he could feel every detail of what was happening to her and with her. The pain, the shame, the trauma, the guilt, and above all the acute state of helplessness- he had felt every bit of her experience as if they were happening to him as well. 

“Ron’s his brother damn it, how it is that he could remain so dispassionate and clinical. Maybe, he had been inside many minds. He is a seasoned curse breaker. Goblins don't hire any wizard unless they are the best in the field,” she looked at the bulge in his cloak pocket and realized he might have placed the vial full of her grotesque memories in there.

She missed being a child. She missed her parents, they were not supposed to die. She tried to blame herself, but failed. She had nothing to do with it. Being a Witch was a gift that came along with its own consequences. She never missed her Muggle School nor did she look forward to meeting old playmates. None of them were her playmates since every single child in the neighbourhood block teased her for being too smart. She was not a pretty girl either. With her wild hair and her small face, she looked too weird. 

The thought just appeared out of nowhere, while she rested her palm over her midsection and whispered,” what would it look like?”

* * *

Closing the wooden door softly, Bill rested his head over its rough surface and took a couple of deep breaths. After the attack at the Burrows, he had developed the habit of carrying his wand on his person. The Goblins had allowed him to carry two. One his family was aware of and the other only his employers knew about. His first wand was still lying somewhere in his robe. Muttering under his breath, he tapped his finger at his thigh. Both the hoister and the wand materialised. 

Removing the hoister, he placed it over the counter. Pulling his wand out, he held onto it and looked about. Throwing some powerful silencing and locking spells at the door and the windows across the opposite wall, he let go of his boiling emotions. He might not be a dragon trainer like his younger brother but Bill Weasley had a temper similar to that of Professor Snape. While the later was short wired, Bill had found a way to keep it under control. 

But not today. He hurled curses all around him dismantling every inch of the most expensive bathroom he had ever stepped in. He didn’t care about Griphook, he didn’t care about his parents. Even his mother had just muttered while receiving the newly weds at the Burrows, “She is better than that French but she should have thought about Ron. She should have waited for him.” Back then, he had felt a shard of glass pierce through his heart at her off handed comment. But now, he felt angrier. It was a good thing they had left so quickly. 

He couldn’t blame his mother, he realised after a while. That woman was this close to losing her children, she might have been too hard on the twins. But her children knew Molly Weasley loved those two pranksters more than the rest. 

Fred and Ron were at St. Mungo's. The family had brought George home. The healer told them,” Apparently there is nothing wrong with him. Perhaps it is a twin thing. This lad is just too shell shocked.” While his mother had gaped at the half blood Medi-wizard, his father had salvaged the situation. “You mean George is grieving over Fred’s condition. He feels it more than the rest of us. Can twins do that?”

The insensitive man had shrugged, turning out his bottom lip, he tried to explain,” Yes, that would be my guess. Give it some time. Potions will do him little good. I would prescribe lots of fresh air and green meadows. An idyllic country scene. He runs a Joke shop, right? Well, Mr. Weasley will bounce back, with more pranks, just give him lots of fresh air.” He couldn’t blame his mother for hexing that man in green and white healer robes. Percy had also written a complaint to the Hospital management. 

Staggering back he rested against the closed door and panted. Sliding down it, he started yelling till his throat ached and his voice was hoarse. He wanted to wake up from this terrifying nightmare. He wanted to be with Fleur. He wanted to walk out and think it was her lying on that bed, waiting for him, and not weeping and shivering Hermione Granger. 

He sneered in disgust,” she is no longer Miss Granger. She is a weasley, but ironically married to the wrong brother.” Thrusting his arms and legs he pounded at the floor, much like a child throwing a tantrum. He had never done that before, he was always the poised and sensible one in the whole brood of seven siblings. He yelled and yelled. At times his words came out as a mixture of French and English and at times they were nothing more than incoherent sounds. He didn’t know how longer he tossed about in his personal hell, but that nagging thought about Hermione not faring any better than him made him grow calmer at last.

Absolutely exhausted, he got up on his feet, and started repairing things one by one. Next his healed those small cuts he had received after the thick mirror had shattered into pieces. Finally healing his throat, he walked into the shower and stood under the freezing cold water. Closing his eyes shut he grimaced when Hermione’s face reappeared. She had fluttered around him in the most exquisite way imaginable. He had heard his magic respond to that. That never happened with Fleur. Veelas were passionate and seductive but never did she make his magic crave for her in that way. Leaning against the wall and beating his head over the tiles, he started mumbling under his breath. “ Forgive me, my love, forgive me, I didn’t wish to let go of you so soon.”

He scrubbed and scrubbed until he was red all over. He showered once again after rinsing himself. He was supposed to be Fluer’s forever, no one could take her place, even if it was the brightest Witch of the age! 

Frustrated at his incapacity to both hate and pity Hermione, he punched at the walls of the shower enclosure until his knuckles bled and screamed like a caged beast. His voice echoed around him. It shouldn’t have been Ron. He wished against every thing that Dolohov’s spell should have struck him instead. Somewhere around Fluer was already breathing her last. He would have happily crossed the veil to join her. “Si seulement je pouvais rentrer et me faire tuer ... Fleur je ne peux pas partir sans toi.”

Shutting the shower with a wave of his hand, he tied the towel and looked at his reflection and sneered at it. Canceling the silencing and locking spell, he pressed his ear at the door and tried to listen. ‘Granger was too quiet, did she end up doing something stupid? While I was…’ throwing the door open he dashed into the room. 

The witch had simultaneously screamed and jumped on the bed, trained her wand at him, she tried to keep the blanket secured around her. The awkwardness made him grow livid. Looking away pointedly, he ignored her as he started dressing. He could still see her reflection over the mirror propped on a vanity. He found her intrigued by his numerous scars. There was a time when he would humour both Ron and Ginny by pointing at them and telling them how he got them during his dangerous missions. 

Ron had written back after his second year, “I dont get why every girl is crazy about the windbag, Lockhart. Would you believe it, he tricked and oblivated wizards who went on those adventures and stole their stories and turned them into his own. What a cheat! And Mom was crazy about him! I am going to tell this to you alone, Bill, I am proud of breaking my wand and being responsible for sending that liar where he belongs. Harry thinks he should have landed in Azkaban, but St. Mungo’s is still a prison. What was Dumbledore thinking, employing him as a DADA professor!”

Shaking his head,he pinned up his robes and cleared his throat. Hermione was about to say something, but he beat her to it,” You can sleep it in. I reckon you have some books in that extendable bead’s bag of yours. You can read them as well. I have to go out. But I will come back as soon as I can. Don’t open the door to anyone. The resort house elves will be instructed to get you anything you wish to have when you are hungry. Don’t panic or worry unnecessarily, I promise I will come back.”

He watched her shoulders droop and her face crumble. Pursing her lips she jerked her head and asked in a small voice,” Are you leaving because of me? I know you must be hating me, I know you love Fluer, I didn’t wish for any of this to happen.”

Clenching his fist behind his back, he stood taller at the foot of the bed and said,” Fluer is dead, so is my unborn child. Ron and Fred are still alive. So are we. And I know it is up to both of us to see that his child is safe.”

He watched her toes curl and her fingers flex around the rim of the blanket. Her unruly hair fanned around her small face, making Hermione look quite vulnerable. She stole a glance at him and looked done at her lap and mumbled,” Yes, since abortion is out of the question.”

Trying to keep his anger down, Bill murmured,” We don't favour it in our society, but I am intrigued why you would consider it?”

“Because this child will not be born out of love but out of torture. What makes you think anyone will accept him or her? He will be born out of wedlock. People will frown on me, they would point fingers at you and at every other Weasley…” she half shouted.

“Yes, they would do that only if they learn about the truth,” he suggested coldly.

Hermione snapped her head up and peered at the man. His scars running across his face added to his stern demeanor. She asked in awe,” What do you mean?”

“I am suggesting you keep that baby. We will tell the world it is ours. Only a handful of people will have to know the truth, but that is because we need to save Ron. In the meantime, I will perform all my duties as a husband and later on as a father, well more accurately as a guardian, until Ron has recovered.”

“And then?” she stammered.

“I will leave the rest for both of you to figure out,” giving her a curt nod, Bill turned on his heels and strode out of the room, without looking back. 

* * *

“Si seulement je pouvais rentrer et me faire tuer ... Fleur je ne peux pas partir sans toi.” is french for “If only I could go back and get myself killed...Fleur I can't leave without you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is contributed to the prompt provided by Weasleys, Witches & Writers. Prompt head," Hump Day Drabble".
> 
> The prompt:
> 
> Marriage Law AU: 
> 
> “You weren’t exactly my idea of a spouse.” 
> 
> “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. But here we are, shackled together just like they want.”


End file.
